Scare
by MD14
Summary: One shot. Throw caution to the wind, and you just might learn a whole lot about yourself... about each other. Started as a twitfic... but it works.


So... she really couldn't stop herself when they finally got into bed, for platonic sleep. Really he'd been complaining about his back ever since they left the station, but... it'll be their first night they're together, actually just speaking to one another, since she got back. Since they got them back.

Quite honestly, she took the sarcastic "Not tonight honey I have a headache," as more of a challenge. And Andy's always been pretty competitive.

Sam, well, he should've seen it coming. Hell, he wants it, six months without her... seven and a half really. So the minute she said "I'll give you a massage," he shouldn't have let her, he should've said he was too tired tonight. But he didn't. Just rolled over onto his stomach in the middle of his bed, let her climb right on top of him.

And of course it starts out nice and innocent. Innocent as back rubs go. She doesn't want him to catch on. For a detective he's not very astute tonight.

She works her palms and fingers from the dip in his lower back, all the way up and around his neck, and smooth over his shoulders. She does it a few times before ducking out to his bathroom and grabbing some lotion. Wants to make it _seem_ legit.

When he laughs, she swats him forcefully, and effectively shutting him up.

"I'm setting the mood."

She rubs the lotion on her hands and arms, before continuing, this time working from his shoulders down. And another clue, she's very selfish in these situations. She'll give him enough of a massage to relieve a tiny bit of tension in his neck... maybe... and then demand a full hour, on her legs alone.

But tonight she really takes her time. Making sure every muscle in his arms and back are relaxed, so when she tells him to flip over, he doesn't see the harm.

Sucker.

He thought she was going to move around to his shoulders, act as a pillow, his shoulders on her thighs, so she could work over him... like they normally do. But this little trickster, nope, she just straddles him again, not a little higher, or a little lower, nope. Right above his crotch.

He reacts immediately, accidentally bucking up to her, then clutching her hips for dear life.

"You don't play fair McNally," He growls, trying to slide her down a little, get some restraint back.

But for every time he has to grab her, push her back, she leans over him a little more, creeping back to where she was, adding friction. So he _has_ to stop, or he's just making it worse for himself too.

But this time Andy starts at the shoulders and works her way down... painfully slowly.

When she _finally_ gets to his ribs, and abs, it's some kind of crazy torture that immediately has the blood flowing... well it's flowing, south.

"Looks like someone likes it when I break the rules, colour outside the lines, so to speak." She whispers in his ear when she feels him, placing a strategic kiss behind his ear, tracing the shell with her tongue.

He lets out a guttural gasp, and she loves when he loses control. Even when he's usually losing control, it's controlled, but this, this is what she wanted.

She's still straddling him, leaned all the way over, supported on one arm, the other, traveling back down his stomach... south.

He already knows where its headed, and he already knows it's too late to stop her, so he grabs that hand and flips her over as quickly as he can, giving into her efforts. She earned it really. Now he knows how to get a real massage out of her.

"How does your back feel now?" She teases, before he gives her a messy kiss.

"Sweetheart, I'm hardly thinking about my back at a time like this."

They stay that way for a while, just kissing, slow, a little messy, a lot of battling tongue. He grinds his hips down when he can tell she's going to buck, looking for friction. No sooner, no later. Payback for her methods earlier.

He uses one finger, just one, to make sure she's ready under her boy shorts, even though he _knows_ she is. He has been for... _a while_. When he hears a small and desperate whimper, he looks back to her lust-filled eyes, and he realizes just how much he missed how in sync they used to be. No matter how lost they were in the mechanics and social aspects of their relationship, this is where they knew it was right. No matter how bad it got, this was how they could be sure of each other.

She's been working on shucking his boxers while he was focused on her animalistic expression, and he finally helps her out, lifting his knees off of the mattress so her toes can push them the rest of the way off... that's when she freezes. When she can feel him on her bare thigh, she stills.

"Condom," she chokes out, "I wasn't on the pill,"

"I wasn't... I don't..." He manages to somehow get out. He can feel her heat, and he's biting the inside of his cheek, he's sure he'll draw blood. "I didn't." He said more firmly. He means it to be reassuring to her. He didn't even think about another woman while she's been gone, let alone be ready for one. But by the look on her face, she's wishing maybe he had.

They're both still, like they've just been caught, or they can't even make the smallest of noises or they'll die or... they're just both _really _still.

He's staring hard down at Andy, because despite what the normal reaction to that might be, she looks like she's maybe still waiting for him to relieve them both.

When she picks up on his hesitance, and plays the cons back in her head, she still can't fight the relief she needs, the relief she can only get from him.

"Fuck it." She says, pulling him back down to her, opening her mouth to him as she feels him finally line up.

* * *

She doesn't regret it. It was one of the best nights they've ever had, aside from their first. She really doesn't. And, he even did his best to pull out, well he kind of did- so she doesn't even bother with Plan B the next morning. The only time she's ever needed to use it, it made her so sick. And Sam's not very concerned, so she just, she just forgets that there's even a risk.

Until she remembers, five weeks later, and she's late. A week late. For a few days she writes it off completely. After that night she started a new pack of birth control, and she doesn't _usually_ get her period until the last couple of placebo days... but it's been too long. It's been eight days since the placebo, and she's realizing it's her first scare since she was a teenager.

After that first time, she was religious with her pills. Didn't have sex if she was even off an hour in taking them.

So that's how they end up in his kitchen, him staring at her nervously, her chomping at her nail bit. Him panicking that she's going to tell him it's over. Her afraid he'll bolt when she tells him. Yell at her for letting him without protection. Tell her she's ruining his life, he doesn't want kids, never even imagined them with her.

And yeah things aren't bad between them, haven't been. Things feel right this time, stronger, more comfortable, more stable. They talk.

But she's been sitting on this idea for three days, terrified of having to tell him.

But he got fed up with her odd silence, afraid that when she said she didn't want to go to the Penny the last couple nights that she's edging him out.

"Please just, please Andy." He says, tired of holding it back.

She looks down at the floor, before sighing, and staring back at him with a little bravery. "I'm late. A week late."

Takes him a minute to process what that means but when it does, he goes pale as a sheet, and Andy begins to fear the worse. Yelling would be bad, but she was prepared for that. Clearly the idea of her having his children is not... it has terrified that shit out of him.

"Sam?" She whispers, walking closer to him, make sure he's still breathing. "I'm sorry."

And at that, he snaps out of his fear, and he immediately realizes what his reaction is doing to her. He's not mad, he's just... not ready, yet. Yet.

"No, no, no sweetheart. I'm sorry." He says, putting his hands on either side of her arms, making her really see that he means that. So not her fault.

"I shouldn't have assumed-"

"You didn't, I wanted to too. I could've stopped it, it was my choice too." He assures her, pulling her against him, wrapping his arms around her. He feels her reciprocate the hug, fist her hands in his tee-shirt.

"What do we do?" She asks, pulling back to look at his face. He wishes he had every answer for her, but all he can come up with is-

"Take a test."

"What if it's positive?" She asks, asking the tough question. The million dollar question on both their minds.

"Then I guess we're having a baby." He says, as if it's so simple.

She smiles against him so he can't see. But it would've killed her if he'd even mentioned an abortion. There are certain parameters where she can see that it would be the right thing, but her? She was financially stable, wanted it someday, and this is the man she wanted it with, no matter how scary a thought to confront.

"So you're saying you'll hold my hand while I pee on a stick?" She smiles, despite her fear.

"I'm saying I'll hold your hand until we're old and grey, no matter what that stick says."

She smiles at him even bigger, if possible, and presses her mouth to his at his promises.

"Thought you weren't my boyfriend, you wouldn't be holding my hand?"

"Also didn't think I'd be the reason you were peeing on a stick. I'm a man McNally, we're always wrong."

He finally pulls away from her and she feels her smile disappear, but he grabs his keys off of the counter, and reaches out his hand.

"Let's go."

* * *

They're in the drug store, side by side, staring at the options, both asking, internally, why you would need so many options. One of each? Two of the same? Three for security. And Sam's obviously not going to just go for the cheapest one (they're all in the same ball park anyways) but man are they expensive.

She eventually grabs two Clear Blue home pregnancy tests, saying she likes their commercials best. A very McNally logic. But he doesn't dare say anything, because all he wants is to stop staring at the wall. But he decides maybe they need one more, to keep in the bathroom. Just in case.

What he's learning here is that this waiting, is the worst part. Positive or negative, he's not even scared any more, just anxious. It's the not knowing.

So they get back to his place. And immediately she runs to the bathroom. She chugged three Gatorades on the ride over. Runs back out of the bathroom when she realizes, he's the one carrying the tests. Runs back out again, asking him for a cup.

"You want to pee in one of my cups?" He asks, more than a little grossed out.

"I don't want to pee on my hands. I don't have any experience with aim, remember?"

So he goes all the way to his pantry to find a plastic cup. She's got her legs crossed by the time he gets back. And he's just hoping this is it, no more steps.

But he stands right outside (turns out she didn't actually want him to hold her hand, she meant it metaphorically) but he doesn't hear anything.

"Andy? You okay?"

"Yeah, just, can you maybe go to the living room, you're making me nervous." She squeaks. He shakes his head at her. Really she didn't want him very close at all.

Turns out she wasn't even going to wait with him. She's been in there four minutes, and he knows from reading the instructions it only takes three. He keeps a trained eye on the clock on his VCR, and doesn't move it, until he hears the door creak open.

He stands, and walks over to her while she walks towards him, shaking her head a little.

"Negative, both of them." She says, voice even. But her eyes betray her, and she knows he can see it. "I'm not- I didn't want to be, I just got a little..."

"Me too."

She gives him a big hug, releasing a big shaky sigh, and gripping him tight. He rubs her back up and down, slowly, reassuringly. Maybe tonight he'll give her a massage.

"Me too."


End file.
